This is not love
by busy pushing up daisies
Summary: She makes memories out of broken glass. Sasuke/Sakura.


She makes memories out of broken glass. Sasuke/Sakura.

* * *

The glass shatters against the ground and she doesn't utter a single sound. She looks away from him, because eye contact just irritates him and she's learned from that. He grabs another dish, and smashes it against the floor.

For a moment, Sakura is glad she doesn't collect china and she's never been fond of old things anyways. When she hears the entire collection of dishware break against the floor, tinkling the only way glass can, she smiles under her hand. Maybe she's gone crazy, living in a world where one little phrase can snap your husband to breaking glass against the walls and destroying furniture with his bare hands (you can too, but it's called self control, and really, you should've married someone with more discipline) but she likes the feeling.

She hears him storm out, feet dancing amongst the glass, and slam the door on his way out, almost knocking it off its hinges. Sakura closes her eyes, and dreams of blond hair weaving through her fingers and blue eyes that wrinkled at the edges. Sometimes she wishes she had blond hair and blue eyes so maybe Sasuke could act normal (as normal as he could get) but he refuses to touch her and she's perfectly fine with that.

She opens her eyes to a broken floor and a hole in the wall. Slowly, she eases herself onto the floor and a shard cuts her in the hand. She's glad she has a reason to use her chakra, it's been so long, and the energy slips through her with accuracy, seeping through rusty locks and pouring out onto her fingers.

The green is bright and makes the blood go away.

Slowly, Sakura gathers the microscopic broken glass in her hands, and tiptoes her way to her room. She kneels by her dusty drawer and slides it open. Inside there are various glass, all different sizes and colors.

So beautiful.

These ones are a dark blue, and it brings out the paleness of her skin(you haven't seen daylight for a while) and the pieces scatter in the wooden drawer, bouncing and rekindling with fallen kin. She traces a finger through the pile, and ignores the prick it makes on her sensitive skin.

She makes memories out of broken glass. When her mind deceives her and the days slips away like sand she goes to her trusty drawer full of glassware and remembers the months like yesterday. Maroon for February, Aqua for December, colors for every month. She loves orange the most, for reasons unknown.

She was stupid in April, she thinks as she rolls a yellow piece in between her fingers, when she thought Sasuke had gotten over the death of his best friend(that he killed, no less) and somehow she had forgiven him, but she should've have, couldn't have, what would Naruto think?

They married in the spring, with pink flowers for company and people she could care less about, there's only one person she wanted to be there and he's long gone.

Sasuke was sane then, she thinks, or a really good actor because not two months later he ruined their home. But it's not really his fault (you found out you were infertile).

"Just find someone else," she said over dinner, all quality stripped from her voice, spearing the pea on her plate with vigourous anger, it made a dent in the china.

Sasuke scowled, "Disgusting."

She thought maybe it was because he loved her, but she doubts it now.

(Maybe he's talking about your awful cooking)

She makes memories out of broken glass. She can hear someone stepping onto the porch, quickly she shoves the drawer back, and buries herself in the blankets.

Footsteps edging nearer, the small creak as the door cracks open.

She squeezes her eyes shut tight, half in fear, half in hope. Maybe he'll finally raise a hand against her and she'll have an excuse. She knows she won't win.

But he only closes the door and walks away.

Sakura can only listen in disappointment and fall asleep dreaming of mirrors and laughing children.

(the cycle will repeat again, you know this, and you can hope only one day he'll do something because this life is like torture, with broken glass your only companion, it cuts into your feet)

…

He opens the door and looks at her figure blankly.

(You should say something, you know this, but you're so tired and she seems to be doing fine, you lie to yourself, but it's better this way, he'd rather destroy a collection of dishes than break her too)

He closes the door and walks away, dreaming of mirrors and laughing children under bleeding eyes.

* * *

**A/N:** I am aware that 'omgawd this sucks so bad like wtf is this supposed to be?' but it came out of nowhere in my head and I liked it so, yeah. I hope you like it and review. Also, I am aware the format and story telling of this is a little iffy, but both narrators are supposed to be insane. Please take that into consideration. Also, I actually loathe Sakura (mostly because Kishimoto doesn't know how to write freaking female characters, one minute she's suey strong and next she's suey 'I need protection, save me someone!' shit. But she's a lot better than she was when she was 12 so ehh. I hope my general loathing for her didn't get in the way of you enjoying or understanding this story. Also, I kind of hate Sasuke too, for reasons everyone can kind of relate to.

BUT ANYWAYS, please review and tell me what you think! ;)


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